Unchecked Emotions
by oddirony
Summary: Inspired by an excerpt of The Will of the Empress. The four Circle mages are together again, but Tris has changed. How does this change the group? Kinda TB


Fanfiction – The Circle Reforged

Author's note: This was inspired by the excerpt of _The Will of the Empress _on Tamora Pierce's website. I know the entire book is now out but I haven't read it yet. Also bear in mind it was inspired by the excerpt only and I have now tried to expand it to an idea of my own… kind of. I have focused mainly of Tris and Briar because I always thought then understood each other most out of the four, and they are also my favourite characters. Please bear with me… :)

Briar crept into the room. Without their magical connection, he knew Tris as she daydreamed would not hear him. At first he thought to jump out at her and scare her, as he had done numerous times in the past, but she looked so troubled it stopped him. It saddened him that she would not share her thoughts with him, but he knew she wouldn't give something for nothing. He decided to leave her to it. When he went into the kitchen, however, the tension had not abated. Daja and Sandry were not exactly on friendly terms at the moment – Sandry was upset at all of them, really, since none of the other three would share their magical connection. He knew his reasons, and Daja's, but Tris's reasons had to do with whatever she was daydreaming about, he was sure. It seemed she was the most closed off- he had rarely seen her show any emotions in the days they had returned at all.

"What's wrong, Briar?" Sandry asked suddenly. Startled out of his musing he realized Sandry had stopped her weaving and waited for a response. He grinned, trying to ease tension.

"Just thinking about that girl from last night," He smirked, watching Sandry roll her eyes with a sigh. He saw Daja grin out of the corner of his eye.

The rest of the day was uneventful; he thought about his foster-sisters while tending his garden. His sisters didn't seem the same- he realized that none of them - especially himself, were or ever would be.

He woke up, panting; sweat rolling down his back from a horrific dream full of smoke, fire, bodies, blood and the feeling of suffocating. They were getting worse. He wished they would get out of his head, leave him be! He didn't deserve this; he didn't need to be reminded constantly of the horrors he had already faced – why must he face them again and again? He wiped his watering eyes with the back of this hand, feeling helpless.

"Don't pretend, Briar," The voice was soft, but he jumped violently. He looked up to see Tris resting on the edge of his windowsill. Her braids were swaying gently in the breeze; her gray eyes were serious and did not waver from his.

"What do you know?" He muttered at her, irritated at her perception and her power. He turned away from her. "Go away."

"I know, Briar." She murmured back, her voice expressionless. "About Yangjing, Gorgxye. I know what you saw. I think you should go see a soul healer." He glanced back at her.

"How do you know? It's none of your business!" She rose and shifted her skirts around.

"Do something about it, Briar. It will consume you. Trust me, I know." Her eyes were hooded, and her voice was void of emotion. In a flurry of winds she was gone.

"Coppercurls," She was sitting at the window again, staring into the distance again. She turned when he addressed her. Again, he noted, a little scared, she was emotionless.

"How do you know?" He asked apprehensively. Had Rosethorn told the girls?

"I'm a weather mage, Briar." She said passively. "I hear things. You and Rosethorn, Evvy, Rosethorn and Lark talking. Even you in your dreams: You wake every night." She looked serious, though her voice betrayed no emotion.

"What about you, Coppercurls?" He said aggressively. "You stare into space all day, never talk to us. And you're so damn emotionless. It's scary, kid." She looked coolly at him.

"I've got control, is all," She murmured. He dropped down next to her, intent.

"I got control too, Tris, and I still wake up screaming. You don't. Why?" She turned away, looking distant. He waited. She didn't reply.

"Tris," He badgered more forcefully. He went to touch her arm, telling her it was important to him he know this, and she drew back like she had touched something hot, almost jumping from her chair on the windowsill.

"Don't touch me," She murmured quietly. Briar frowned.

"What's going on, Tris?" He asked uneasily, almost afraid. She sighed, and her magic in his eyes flared and flared, until he had to look away from the dangerous glare. She was gone when he looked back again.

"I think we should talk," He said to Niko the next day, having arrived at Discipline earlier that morning. He sat around the breakfast table with Lark, his teacher, Evvy, Niko and Comas. Evvy was happily stuffing her face with food, watching Comas demurely scoop up his food shyly. Briar paid no attention to them, his business serious with Niko.

"About what?" Niko replied coolly.

"Tris," He said without preamble. "What did you do to her?" The table stopped, the students staring at him unbelievably, amazed that he would talk to the great master Niko in such an accusing way. Rosethorn sent Briar a look that plainly said 'what are you getting at?'

"My dear boy," Niko said calmly, stirring his tea. "What do you mean?"

"She's different," He said defensively. "Withdrawn. What happened to her?" Niko sighed.

"Tris's magic has grown in nature," He said calmly. "She is extremely powerful, as are you all. Her power enables her to see things, things she shouldn't have to see. Seeing horrific things changes one." He paused and his glittering black eyes stared straight at Briar. Briar shifted uncomfortably. "Not only this, but since her power has grown to such an extent, her grip on her emotions must be unbreakable, lest she get out of control and they kill someone. She rarely gets to express herself anymore." He continued. There was silence around the table. "It is unfortunate," He added.

"Unfortunate?" Briar repeated incredulously. His voice rose. "How can you not care? You've turned her into a machine, she's not - "

"That's enough, Briar," Tris's voice interrupted him. She was standing at the door, leaning against the frame. "It's not his fault." She was calm and composed. A gentle breeze wafted through the room. Briar almost wanted to scream with frustration. Couldn't she see? She was his sister, his friend, one of the few people he could trust. He wanted to help her. She wouldn't let him. With a sigh he got up, not caring that everyone was watching him intently. He would try and reason with her later. She would not be able to take now for an answer: he had overpowered Lady Zenadia; he could definitely overpower his sister, however strong she had grown.

He was waiting for her when she got home to go to bed. It was extremely late by this time, and he had been waiting patiently for over an hour for her to get home. The night was wet and cold; a violent storm was brewing on the horizon. It was a natural storm; he had already checked: no trace of Tris in it. Usually he himself would be out, even in weather like this, chasing skirts without a care in the world, but tonight he had his sister to take care of. She had stayed up reading he supposed, and expected her to be moody when she got to bed, however she almost skipped in, looking extremely happy: for a moment she looked like the old Tris. When she saw him, however, she rolled her eyes and stopped.

"_You _should be the one to go see a soul healer, Coppercurls," He murmured. She smiled for the first time in days.

"Leave me be, Briar. I'm fine." Briar narrowed his eyes. She was even more difficult now she was showing happiness. The rain tapped a steady pattern against the window.

"Why are you suddenly so happy?" He asked suspiciously. Tris looked down, fiddling and ignoring him. She again didn't answer.

"Why won't you let me in?" Briar was horrified to find he was almost begging. "I want to help you." The rain seemed to come down harder, splattering against the window, making it rattle noisily.

"Don't be a hypocrite, Briar," Tris said suddenly. "You can't tell me do something when you yourself refuse to."

"I have reasons, Tris. So does Daja. Sandry, well you know how she feels about it. But you, you're going to damage yourself if you don't release your emotion somehow." Tris shook her head.

"Take some of your own advice," She snapped, sounding more like the girl he remembered. Lightening danced joyfully around the silhouetted figure of Tris against the window. "It's none of your business, and I wont have you poking around in it!" She spun to walk out, but he had had it with her running away from her problem, turning away from him.

"Oh no you don't, Coppercurls!" He grabbed her arm without thinking; she jerked back too late – an electric shock of some kind sprung into his mind and he saw for a split second in his eyes the image of a girl lying on a marble slab, her face bloated in death, white makeup standing out against ashen grey skin, a yellow sash knotted around her throat. A second later it was gone, and their mind connection was open – he could hear Daja and Sandry gasp in surprise as they awoke.

"_GET OUT OF MY MIND!" _Tris roared, her growl splitting his skull in half, screeching in her anger. There was a loud tearing noise and plaster fell from the ceiling, crashing violently in the corner, rising dust and debris into the damp air. Rain burst into the room in torrents and within seconds he was soaked. A bubble of dry air quickly covered the slashed hole in the ceiling and Tris seemed to struggle to get her emotions under control. She clenched her fist and breathed, counted. The storms intensity abated a bit. After a moment she turned to face Briar, and he was horrified to discover the same passive dullness in her eyes.

"Do you really want to know how I release my emotions?" She asked resignedly. He nodded still a little shaken. Tris took a deep breath and, hesitantly, took his hand with hers. Instantly another image assaulted him: a little girl, crying, wailing for her mother and Aunt, both of whom lay metres away, strangled, their faces distorted. He recognized the child as a younger Glaki. A second later that image was gone. He looked across at Tris; she seemed to be challenging him with her eyes – he conveyed no pity with in that look, only understanding. Her hand relaxed in his. She climbed through the now open window, pulling him through. The storm was completely upon them now, lightening flashed only metres away – not unusual since Tris was there – and thunder rumbled loudly. Tris closed her eyes, breathed again and counted. Briar followed suit, feeling Tris instantly break away and float out in the air, rain and thunder. He followed hesitantly. They weaved and flew – they were the wind, howling, whistling through the sky. Briar turned back and saw their bodies: small, insignificant out here in the middle of nature. They floated now in the eye of the storm, enjoying the freedom, and suddenly Tris was gone, back in her body, shaking with sobs, wracked with anguish. Lightening cracked over and over again, hail bucketed down, and the wind became so violent he thought he would be blown away. Waves crashed in time with her sobs, seeming to soothe and express her sorrow at the same time. He observed from a distance, not wanting to interrupt her release, the only time she could express herself and do no damage. Next came her anger – the thunder rumbled louder and louder, wind changed direction, clouds rolled in waves. Tris's hair was buzzing with electricity, lightening stroked closer and closer each time, making Briar somewhat nervous. He realized then that their connection was still open - he could feel her, images flashed across the inside of his eyes: dead bodies, a young man blowing glass, Glaki napping, breathing and counting, Tris's braids, and image in glass, chimes blowing in the breeze, Niko looking troubled; he could feel – fear, anger, despair, fatigue, a brief happiness. Restraint, and pride in herself. Hate towards her power. Images of himself, younger, more carefree, ran across the link, of Sandry, smiling with her button nose, and Daja, flashing pearly white teeth against black skin, brandishing her Trader's staff. Frostpine and his bright flare of red magic, Lark and her gentleness, Rosethorn with a spade in her hand, Moonstream and her steady comforting presence. There was a happiness in these memories, dampened by the pain of change: he realized she was distant to her past happiness, and their link because of the changes now. Intense loneliness shone through the happiness now. Suddenly through the blinding rain he saw a flash of movement and light: a moment later he realized it was the girls, coming to comfort Tris. The storm raged for hours with a ferocity unknown to simply Mother Nature, and Tris, even after her tears dried, stayed on the roof, letting her memories surface and her emotions free. Briar, wiping his own eyes from the memories he shared, joined the two girls beside her and enveloped all three girls in a crouching hug, letting his own memories of Yangjing be washed away by the storm.

The next morning Tris, composed, calm, even elegant, sat at the breakfast table. Surrounded by her sisters and brother, and explained.

"I can't unleash my emotions when I choose to. Even you restrain your emotions to some extent – that's what growing up is about, I suppose. But you always have the choice of when to feel. I never do. My only release is in storms: they are natural phenomena's. I do not try to harness its power, only expand it."

"But cant you just release only a little emotions at a time? Reduce the impact on your surroundings?" Sandry murmured encouragingly after a moment of silence. Tris smiled, though as usual her voice was passive.

"Once I tried that. I accidentally started a mini tornado."

"I don't understand how you can bottle all that up. Isn't it a bit like harnessing the power of tides? Exhausting and unnatural?" Daja commented seriously. Tris was thoughtful.

"I suppose, but its either that or killing someone." She looked down, almost ashamed.

"So every time a storm comes I get to feel. That's why I can be happy just before then." She glanced at Briar.

"Well, I will say one thing. Being in the middle of a storm is amazing." He grinned at Tris. "And watching you sparkle with lightening, calling it to you was even better." He didn't mention she had been full of violent anger at the time. Tris was extremely grateful, though she couldn't show it.

"I'm glad you understand," She murmured in that dead voice. "And I'm sorry if I don't seem to feel anything. That's not true." Briar bit his lip thoughtfully.

"How long have you had to this?" He asked seriously. Tris thought for a moment.

"When I was in Tharios I had enough control that I could express myself whenever I wanted." She smiled. "Keth, my student, got to know my temper really well. But still, my deeper feelings I had to keep inside, and I think he realized that. We left Tharios to go the Islands to the North, and I don't know why but while I was there my magic just started getting out of control. I learnt later that another mage was tampering with my emotions, getting them out of control so I had no control over my magic." She paused, twisting her hands in her skirts. "When I got control again, my magic had flared and changed, it seemed I didn't know it anymore. I had to gain control by teaching myself all over again." She smiled ruefully. "If I get even a little bit angry or sad or upset now, big things happen. So I need to reign my feelings in even tighter than usual, that's all." Sandry jumped up, her face determined.

"Not anymore, you won't!" She exclaimed aggressively. "I have an idea. I'm going to spin your magic again Tris, this time putting a barrier between it and everyday light emotions. It'll work - you know it will. You'll still need to control your deeper ones, but that should be easy for you." Tris fought to keep her voice level, but her eyes showed her hopelessness.

"Sandry, it won't work," She said softly. "Niko and I have tried everything. It comes down to control."

"Well, what do you have to lose?" She asked imperially. Briar snickered.

"That's easy, Your Highness: her magic." Sandry made a face at him.

"Shut it, Briar. This has nothing to do with you." Daja frowned at this.

"Sandry, it does have to do with him. It has to do with all of us. For one, our magic is linked. It could affect us, binding emotions from magic." She said seriously. "And we're Tris' family. We're worried about her." She added. Tris sighed heavily, although her voice and face remained expressionless.

"That's why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you'd worry." Briar snorted.

"I'm not worried about you, merchant. Sandry was the one all up in arms about you not being yourself. I don't care one way or another. I like you like this, you don't cause trouble like the other two." He grinned and pointed to Daja and Sandry.

"Let me try at least," Sandry begged, ignoring her brother and his obvious lie. Tris thought for a moment.

"I think we should ask Niko. We don't know what repercussions there could be, for me or all of us."

The next couple of days where hot, and to Tris, who the next day had to carry around a bobbin of thread in her petticoats, and the second day had no magic, missed her breezes sorely. She felt empty, like she was made of nothing except air: the heaviness of her magic was gone for the day. Sandry weaved for hours, concentrating. Tris watched, hoping beyond hope that this idea would work. However empty, and hot, she felt, she was also able to _feel _without repercussions. Her anger at Briar, which she had to keep tightly in check until now, was released and he got a major tongue lashing from her – in her eyes he had been a complete hypocrite, demanding she tell him what was wrong without expecting to tell her any of his time in the past four years away. He wasn't grinning and teasing her by the end of the day: he looked quite flustered and sulky – he hadn't been on the receiving end of her temper in a long time. Tris's sadness at the changed to her home in Winding Circle was visible to everyone, but she returned for the day to being her tart self, making critical observations about her family, being unkind in her usual matter of fact way. Instead of being irritated, her family grinned, glad their Tris was back, if however for a short time. Daja and Briar and Tris talked, laughed, joked and sang, happy to be together again. Sandry missed out, sitting straight-backed, unmoving at the loom, not even stopping for midday.

Sandry was deep in her magic: the strands of Tris' blue and white magic thread shone through her vision, ten-fold stronger than when she had done this years ago. The weaving became extremely tangled within minutes of her beginning; tangling up in itself, thread weaving out of her control. She poured her own magic into the strands, hoping to coax Tris' magic into shape with her familiar influence, however it continued to take on a life of its own, flaring and retreating, threads snaring, loosening and tightening in parts – by the time she finished it looked like an explosion of thread, lightening sparks wriggling over its length. With a sigh she began to reweave it, this time taking it strand by strand, pouring more and more of her magic into keeping it in line. She thought of Tris while she did it: not the new Tris, the Tris her magic made her become, but the old one, her sister, the one prone to temper flares, passionate outcries about things she felt important; the Tris who enjoyed reading, cleaning, dancing in the wind and lightening, the one with the wicked smile, long curly hair free not braided tight to her head, the one who grumbled under her breath, snapped at them, laughed freely, went crimson red when embarrassed. The surprisingly gentle, free spirited, intense Tris she loved. The strands of magic, although continuing to wrestle with her, calmed down, the lightening dancing and sparking along her hands in a gentle caress. She separated the threads with more ease after that: the magic seemed to remember that Tris and wanted her back. However, there was still the matter of how to separate the magic from Tris's everyday emotions: how could she distance Tris's conscious emotions from her deeper ones, since emotions bleed into one another? She didn't think a simple barrier would work. Maybe if she weaved a double barrier between Tris' magic and everything else on both sides of the weaving, so it couldn't escape into her emotions as easily? Sandry knew that emotions bought on magic, especially Tris's kind, so she couldn't exclude it completely, and the barrier would not keep out the emotions absolutely, but it could serve to help Tris' control. Maybe if she could leave a pinhead-sized gap in the barrier it could control the amount of magic that leaked into Tris' emotions. It was worth a try. Once she finished separating the tangled strands of Tris's blue white magic she set to work on the barrier, finished it once then reweaving into it to strengthen it. She left a minute gap in the center of the barrier for Tris' magic to influence her emotions, but figured any bigger and her weaving of the magic would make no difference. It occurred to her then that if Tris now had a double barrier on top of the one Sandry already wove years ago, perhaps their link would be broken? She hesitated for a moment, but decided Tris needed this more, and she could take the risk. Tris was worth it. Finishing the last thread of the double barrier, she glimpsed a shimmer or red entwining into the blue white thread. Concentrating, she saw the red shimmered throughout the entire weaving, flaring and disappearing in parts, returning to others, moving throughout the threads. A second glance over the entire neat weaving and she saw not only red, but also green and her own golden magic rippling throughout the threads. This made Sandry grin and relax: here was proof their link and closeness was still there, even with the barriers, and however much the other three tried to avoid it. _Growing up_, yeah right. That shouldn't change anything, in her opinion. And here was proof, clear, irrefutable proof that it hadn't. She smiled and laughed in glee. She loved it when she was right.

It was almost suppertime when Sandry stretched and yawned, stepping back and surveying her work with a critical eye. The shimmering thread was now a straight weaving with plain white thread bordering it, the gap almost invisible. She hoped it would work. Walking tiredly to find Tris, Daja and Briar in Tris's room, laughing at Briar who was being attacked by the clear glass dragon Tris had brought home, Chime, she almost felt like an outsider when seeing the three of them together. Then she thought of her weaving and smiled, forgetting her unease. The room became silent when she entered: suddenly there was tension in the air. Sandry walked slowly over to Tris, who bit her lip in nervousness and hesitated.

"C'mon, Tris," Briar urged. "Hurry up. Stop being so selfish. I wanna know if it works or not." Tris made a face as Daja grinned then looked at Sandry. Sandry smiled, trying to look positive, even though she wasn't even sure it would work, and was exhausted. Tris took a deep breath and, clamping down on her nervousness and struggling to remain emotionless once again, put her hand to her threads, feeling a jolt of white fire burn in her veins as she reclaimed her magic. She breathed in a sigh of relief, feeling herself whole again as power wriggled throughout her blood. There was a moment of tense silence as Tris tested the feel of her magic: it felt exactly the same, straining against her will to get out of her tight control. She breathed and counted, once, twice, relaxing and keeping her magic inside her skin.

"Tris?" Briar said tentatively. She opened her eyes, sparks swirling and crawling throughout her hair. Her three friends were staring at her intently.

"I don't feel any different," She said softly. Sandry slumped in her chair.

"I cannot believe you," Briar said coldly. Tris was taken a back by his hard tone. He had never spoken to her like that before, even when she had pointed at him with a lightening bolt dancing on her finger and didn't have control of her power all those years ago. "You can't show your emotion and you still manage to alienate people, judge them and degrade them. You have no regard for anyone else; you're selfish and unkind. And you yell at me for being a hypocrite," He glared hard at her. Tris was shocked, extremely hurt… but most of all angry. _Who_ was the hypocrite here? _Who_ expected to get something without giving something back? _Who_ alienates people? He didn't even know her anymore, who was he to judge? Her eyes narrowed to slits and she jumped up, her power flaring and expanding, sparks jumping from her head to settle in her palms. Her fingers automatically shaped a small lightening bolt as she gave Briar as well as she got.

"_I'm _the selfish one?" She murmured, her voice dangerously soft. Her power surged through her veins, heating her anger to new heights, but nothing exploded. "You're the one who thinks you're better than anyone else, you're the one alienating people, us! You're not special, you know, Briar! Everyone experiences suffering and pain, its not just you!" She exploded emotionally, however nothing fell from the sky, a storm didn't suddenly appear and rip into the house, a waterspout didn't rise and threaten the harbour. Except an increase in lightening sparks around her person, nothing else happened. Briar looked smug as she tried to calm down.

"I guess it worked, Sandry." He commented calmly. "Good job, meddler." Daja seemed to realize and grinned. Tris panted, trying to calm down her heavy, irregular breathing from her outburst. She was still angry, especially now he was so calm, but a bit confused. He seemed happy almost. What was that about?


End file.
